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Hollows hibernate.
It’s not uncommon, but no hollow will ever talk about it because sleep is when they’re at their most vulnerable. Powerful adjuchas and up can even choose not to sleep, even if the exhaustion and frustration of a couple decades of no sleep were often too much to bare.
No one slept in Las Noches.
No one felt at home there, not like the cool sand and dusty air of the outside could feel. It simply wasn’t a safe enough place to hole up and expect not to be eaten.
Ichigo is, with good reason, worried when all of a sudden Grimmjow starts hunting more and more often. They pretty much live together now; in the small apartment Ichigo could afford between part time jobs and the odd errands he’d carry out for the Soul Society. He’s learned a lot about him, being so close. Like the fact that Grimmjow only needs to hunt once or twice a week. Not daily . It worries him, but Grimm seems perfectly fine otherwise, even his mood is pretty calm.
He only thinks to ask about it when, one morning, as he is woken up by the sun in his face, he catches Grimmjow awake, looking out the window. Has… has Grimm gained weight ? Tt doesn’t matter if he has, but he never expected someone as active as him to do so; much less in such little time.
Was he doing it on purpose? Was that why he’d been hunting so much? In the end, Ichigo doesn’t poke at it. Grimmjow keeps hunting everyday for a week, and getting rounder, soft. The weirdest thing isn’t even that it’s happening but that Ichigo can’t seem to stop looking, can’t seem to stop his hands from lingering too much on the pudgier hips whenever they have sex. And he hopes Grimm would let him squeeze his thighs and his chest.
And then he finally asks; “you’re… ‘ getting ready ’? For what?”
“To sleep— obviously !”
Ichigo is… confused , to say the least, but all that Grimm cares to say is that he ‘has to sleep’. They… they sleep every night!
Without definitive answers, Ichigo continues to simply enjoy the new softness of Grimmjow’s body. Concern sprouting again when, as the cold brings the first snow, so it brings a new mystery…
Why is there a mountain of blankets on their bed? And where did Grimm get so many? He also realizes that he’s stopped hunting; three or so weeks of non-stop hunting and now nothing . The sole thing Grimmjow does is fuss with the mountain of blankets and leave only to come back with more. Ichigo doesn’t even dare ask anymore because the second he gets close to the bed he gets a hiss and smack.
What is going on ?
Christmas comes and goes, then new years; and in both occasions Ichigo makes everyone swear they won’t look at Grimm weird. And finally, as the thicker snow starts to set in, Grimm gets inside the weird blanket fort and doesn’t leave it in the morning.
Grimmjow is… hibernating ? Ichigo tries to peek inside, he’s a little worried of being wrong, but he only gets too close before a layer of spiritual pressure makes him back off. He texts Urahara, totally not worried out of his mind, and the guy only asks for pictures... and it feels a bit dirty to send them, but he does.
In the end, Urahara only agrees with him, this really does look like a hibernation nest; that paired with the weight gain… it’s the only reasonable explanation. So Ichigo follows his advice and waits.
He just waits.
He finds himself staring at the nest for long periods of time, somehow expecting Grimm to just pop out of there when he least expects it. He sleeps next to it in the bed, trying not to worry about him never coming out.
January leaves like a breeze, February starts and just like that it’s almost over, and the nest looks the same as it did when Grimmjow got in. Ichigo is still ‘caring’ for it, in a way. He doesn’t let himself stay away from the apartment for too long, so he can keep an eye on it, so he can make sure nothing bothers Grimmjow and nothing harms him.
He’s making breakfast, after staring at the nest for a good five minutes like he does every morning after waking, and he feels it —that is Grimm’s signature. And not the meek little subdued version of it that he’s been sleeping next to. This feels so much more like Grimmjow.
He runs shamelessly fast to the bedroom, and there he is; like he hadn’t slept for two months straight. Naked, and stretching like a cat under the soft rays of the late Winter sun.
“Morning,” is all the little asshole says in a gravelly voice and a little smirk.
Ichigo’s arms wrap around him tight, despite the sleepy objections, afraid he might go right back in if he doesn’t. He makes him swear he’ll get at least a day’s notice next Winter.
Maybe Grimmjow is still a little sleep-drunk because he leans into the embrace and promises him next time he’ll be less secretive. The stress of not having slept for years had simply gotten to him, but Ichigo had proved to keep the place feeling safe. The spiritual pressure that often seemed to check on his was so warm and gentle, that it lulled his sleep further.
He could look forward to next year.
And perhaps, Ichigo could too, this time .